World Whisperer

by Rachel Devenish Ford

  The sun moved slowly toward the horizon. They were exhausted after rowing under the blazing sun all day. As they sat with their cold porridge, Isika and Ben barely able to use their hands, Ben thought of his father. His house was nearly empty now, only Jerutha and her unborn baby left. Ben knew that his father's chief worry tonight, even as his children were in the wilderness, was that he wouldn't be saved from his illness after this giant rebellion against the goddesses. And who would he send into the temple to work at the shrine? Pregnant women were forbidden.

  Ben didn't know whether Nirloth would miss them. But then a memory emerged from the terrible days after his mother died, when the old man had passed close by Ben and paused to let one hand rest on his shoulder. Ben had flinched, expecting a rebuke, but his father had simply squeezed Ben's shoulder with a gentle hand, then kept walking.

  Yes, Ben thought. He would miss them. In his heart, he felt something like satisfaction. Perhaps his father would finally see the value in what he had lost.

  "Let's go to sleep," Isika said. "Tomorrow we'll keep looking."

  Benayeem looked at her. The setting sun glowed on her face. A rush of things came to his mind, things he wanted to say, a thousand reasons this plan wouldn't work. They had already failed. But she looked both tired and very brave, so he lay down and arranged his cloak around him. Within moments, he was asleep.

  Isika slept a deep, dreamless sleep. When she opened her eyes, the sun was up and the last stars were disappearing. It was warm. She was too warm, actually. She pulled her cloak off and sat up. The air was wonderful on her face and she remembered that they hadn't found Kital, which gave her a momentary flash of fear. But despite the memory of the day before, there was a feeling in her heart that slowly grew. She almost couldn't name it. She sat and smiled for several moments before she realized that she felt… happy. They were outside, under a blue sky. The trees of the jungle shook lightly in a morning breeze.

  She stood and stretched, looking around her. Ben sat at the shoreline, near the water. She walked to him and sat beside him. They looked out across the sea, so blue, as clear as the well water at home. Just beyond the breakers, which were about as tall as Isika's knees, fish darted in and out of plants that grew underwater, waving as the little waves shook them back and forth.

  "Where are we?" she asked, her voice full of the awe she felt.

  "I don't know," Ben replied, and she sat up straighter and looked at him. Normally, he spoke quietly, and Isika often had to strain to hear or ask him to repeat himself. This morning was different. His voice rang out in the morning air and Ibba stirred in her sleep. "It's beautiful," he said, and she recognized the look on his face, because it was the same way she felt. It was peace. She felt the need to get going and find Kital, she knew they had to discuss the best way to do that, but for the moment, she felt peace.

  Ben reached out and took one of her hands, turning it over so the palm was up. She looked at him, then at her hand, and it took her a minute, but when she saw what he was looking at, she gasped and brought her hands closer to her face. Her hands were smooth and free from wounds—the deep, weeping blisters of the night before were gone, as though they had never been there. She didn't have an ache in her back or neck either, and as Ben lifted a hand to her face, she realized that the cuts and bruises her father had left on her body and cheek were gone.

  "What is this place?" she breathed, and Benayeem shook his head at her, smiling.

  "I hoped you would know."

  "You hoped I would know? Do you think I've been exploring magic landscapes while you've been sleeping? This is amazing, Ben, what is happening?" He shrugged, his eyes wide.

  "It's like I want to worry about Kital but I can't find the fear," he said. "I feel sure that we'll find him, but I don't know why."

  Isika nodded. She felt the same way. She looked at the water. It was so clear she had to reach out and touch it, and as she did, a strange feeling of joy bloomed inside her.

  "Let's get into the water…" she said. "We need to bathe to keep from smelling enough to bring the villagers right to us."

  Ben nodded. Just then, Ibba stood up, rubbing her eyes and walking toward them. "Bathe where?" she asked.

  "In there," Ben said, pointing at the calm, endless sea, and her eyes widened as her smile overtook half her face.

  They stripped to their underclothes, and Isika felt like a tiny girl without her heavy dress, her arms and legs poking out of her sleeveless shirt and shorts. She looked at her long, skinny brown legs and Ben's long, skinny brown arms, and she laughed. Ibba danced on the sand beside her. They ran straight into the sea.

  The water was warm, and it felt like the sweetest birdsong on the days when Isika could pretend that her mother was still alive. It was like the embrace of her mother. It brought tears to her eyes, so she blinked them away and moved her arms and legs. She dunked her face into the water. She surfaced, took a deep breath, then pushed herself straight down until she was eye to eye with the fish at the bottom. She swam. Ben and Ibba swam as well. They circled each other in the water, slapping at the surface to splash at one another. Ben was smiling so wide that Isika could see every one of his teeth, and Ibba tried to imitate the swimming of the fish-like animals they had seen the day before. All at once, submerged in water, Isika knew that the people who had taken Kital had never fed children to those animals. They couldn't live in this sea and eat small children. The whole sea was alive with joy, the water perfect; warm and yet refreshing. Tiny drops of water shot straight into the sky from the tops of the waves and caught the light, shining for a moment like stars.

  They climbed out afterward, lying in the sun to dry. Isika felt the sun's warmth on her face, and for the first time in her life, it felt friendly.

  She was just thinking they needed to get back in their boat and search again, when there was a sudden whirring and a breeze that lifted fallen leaves from the sand. Something large flew over her, and she sat up, her heart pounding.

  CHAPTER 8

  Three enormous birds landed on the beach, not far from where she sat. Beside her, Benayeem slowly sat up. Isika could see the tension in his rigid shoulders. The birds were black, and their blackness was woven with lights like the lights of the jewels in the temple walls. They shone with blues and greens and a deep, deep red, so that when they turned and hopped around the children, they glowed with different colors as the sun moved over their bodies. They were larger than the eagles that circled the fishing nets at dusk, when the fishermen discarded the bad catch onto the beach. But their beaks were straight, not curved sharply, like eagles' beaks. The large eyes of the birds focused directly on Isika and her siblings.

  A shiver of fear or anticipation passed through her.

  "Where do you come from, young ones?" one bird asked, and Isika leapt to her feet, astonished. Benayeem stood beside her, and Ibba came and slipped her hand into Isika's, hiding her face behind Isika's back. The birds were so large they reached above Isika's waist. How had the bird spoken? Its beak hadn't moved, but Isika knew with certainty which bird had spoken, just as she knew instinctively that it was the leader of the three.

  "We are Workers," she said. "We come from a village to the south."

  The birds exclaimed among themselves, clicking and chirping, and Isika stepped closer to Benayeem. Was she dreaming? She was sure she was. It explained their healed hands, the lack of pain in her back and face. She smiled, glad to find such a simple explanation. Beside her, Ben shifted from foot to foot. The sounds the birds were making to one another sounded like speech, though Isika couldn't understand their meaning.

  The leader spoke again, and Isika knew with sudden clarity, as his words reached out around them in the air and in her mind, that she was very much awake. This was no dream.

  "You don't look like Workers," he said.

  His speech was something that conveyed instant understanding, that showed her the intent behind his words as well as the words themselves, and as she listened to him, it was almost
as though she could hear his day, his morning of flying over the sparkling sea, the fruit he had eaten, as though she could hear his kind thoughts toward the three of them standing there. It wasn't so much speech as a kind of closeness, a way of being absolutely together. She gasped, from its warmth and its rudeness. In her village, to intrude on someone's thoughts the way this bird was doing was worse than looking into someone's soul through their eyes. It was as though he was in her soul already and knew that she needed to be reassured. Shield your eyes, she heard her father's voice say.

  "It's true," Ben said. "We don't. Our mother came from far away, but we have lived in the Worker village for many years." There was a bright exclamation from the birds again as they spoke to one another, and though Isika couldn't understand what they said, she could sense their surprise and curiosity.

  "Why are you so sad?" the bird asked. Though she felt less sad than she should in this beautiful place, his question brought their loss flooding back to her. She felt a stab of pain and fear for her brother.

  "We tried to rescue our brother from the sea," she said. "In that boat." She pointed to their boat, which looked rather ragged and old in the bright morning light. "But people came and took him into their boat and now we don't know where he is. We are desperate to find him."

  A second bird answered her, and Isika somehow knew she was a female bird.

  "Was he outcast?" she asked, and behind her words Isika heard a deep anger, though it didn't seem directed toward Isika and her brother and sister.

  "Outcast?"

  "You would say 'given over,' perhaps."

  "Yes, he was." The birds clicked and rustled.

  "Then they have taken him where the Maweel always take the outcasts. It is very far away, across the land. You cannot take a boat there." Isika felt her stomach plummet.

  "How can we find him? Where have they taken him?" There was more rustling from the birds, their feathers gleaming in the sunshine. Isika rubbed her eyes. She was talking to birds, far away from her village, about people who had taken her brother far from her. She glanced at Ben. He was standing quietly, a strange look on his face.

  "You will need a guide," the first bird said. "And I sensed your need before I reached you. So I have sent for a guide to take you." He flapped his wings and hopped onto the branch of a tree to look into the jungle.

  Faintly, Isika heard the whistling of a human. Someone approached through the trees. She looked around quickly for her clothes and pulled them from the sand, wrapping her dress around her a moment before the rustling reached the edge of the thick jungle. She took a breath. What was happening to her in this new place? Swimming in underclothes, talking to birds? She squared her shoulders and stuck her chin out, waiting for whatever would come through the trees.

  ***

  Two boys, a little older than Isika and Ben, stepped onto the sand, and Ben drew in a breath and took a step back. One had very dark skin, nearly black, like a losh tree, like Ben and his siblings. Isika and Ibba stared at the boy with wide eyes, and Ben thought his eyes might pop out of his head. It was the first time in eight years he had seen a dark-skinned person who wasn't a member of his family. The boy was extremely tall, with black, tightly curled hair cropped close to his head. He wore dark blue pants and a loose sleeveless shirt. Thin bronze bands encircled his upper arms. There were patterns embroidered on the collar and front of his shirt. He wore tall boots on his feet, and he looked every bit as shocked as Ben felt. The boy with him was pale-skinned. He looked just like the people of Ben's village, but tanned from the sun, like a fisherman or a farmer. His hair was so blond it seemed to be white, and it didn't lay down, but pointed in every direction, mostly up, like a tangle of grass. The two boys looked at each other and the blond one said something Ben couldn't hear.

  The largest of the strange black birds spoke.

  "These lost children are in need of your guidance, Jabari, Gavi," he said. From the first moment the birds had arrived, Ben had been riveted by their effect on him. Their words sang inside of him and he could sense their deep meaning and the joy at their core. It was as though he was an instrument that rang with joy. He found that he needed to hold himself very still, or he might do something crazy, like cry, or run, or jump in place. When the bird spoke now, the music inside Ben flared up again, and he held his elbows tightly against his ribcage, holding himself together. He didn't know what was happening to him.

  "Who are you?" Isika demanded. She shifted her weight and put a hand on Ibba's shoulder. She looked as though she was ready to run, or attack. Ben tensed, ready to join her if she needed him.

  The tall boy gestured at the bird. "Nirral just told you. I am Jabari."

  Nirral. At the name, Ben sensed the large bird's spirit, taller than the highest tree on the beach. He shivered. The boy named Jabari seemed calm and unafraid. A small tendril of sound within Ben separated from the rest and chimed one quiet, simple note. He could sense the spirit of this boy as well. He didn't sense danger. Could he trust his feeling?

  "No," Isika said. "I meant, who are you? What are you doing here?"

  "I should be asking you that," Jabari answered, his voice mild. He smiled. He stood straight and tall but still managed to seem utterly relaxed. "This is our land. We are seeking, which is our work. We don't normally find groups of children wandering around, do we, Gavi?"

  "I don't think we've ever found a group of children wandering around," the blond boy said. He looked vaguely familiar. Ben closed his eyes. There was too much as he began to sense vague shapes behind each of the people on the beach, words behind their words. He tried to calm the voices and sounds inside him. If he wasn't going to go insane, he needed to find a way through the ocean of sound that was growing in him. He patted it down, the way he would calm Kital if he was frightened, and his mind cleared. He opened his eyes.

  The birds made clicking sounds, almost like a purr or a growl, and Jabari glanced at them.

  "You're right," he said. "Sorry." He looked at the three of them. "Are you hungry? We were just sitting down to eat when we got Nirral's message."

  Ben wondered what to answer, and how Nirral had sent a message, but he didn't get time to think because Ibba answered first.

  "Yes!" she exclaimed, stepping toward the boys on the edge of the jungle, an eager look on her face. She was in her underclothes, just a sleeveless shirt and shorts, but since she was a small child it didn't matter. Ben glanced at Isika, who was still holding her dress to herself, her eyes flashing daggers at her little sister. Ibba's skinny brown legs had knobby knees. The hair that had escaped her long twist caught the light like a halo. Her eyes glowed in her face as she looked at the boys and the bag of food they pulled out of a pack at their feet. A wonderful smell filled the air and Ben's stomach woke up. Isika was still frowning, but she joined Ibba and walked toward them. Perhaps her hunger wouldn't let her refuse. She disappeared into the trees for a moment, and when she came back, she was dressed again. The boy named Jabari spread a sheet onto the sand under the large tree, and the one called Gavi set the food out. There was a stack of small fresh-baked loaves of bread that gave off the good smell that had enticed them, a tall metal jar with a lid, a bunch of bananas, and a wrapped package that Gavi opened, revealing soft white cheese.

  After Gavi divided the food, Jabari handed each of them a loaf spread with cheese, and a banana. He opened the tall container and poured a golden, steaming drink into a single cup.

  "What is it?" Ibba asked.

  "It's a kind of tea," he said. "We drink it for strength." He passed the cup around the small circle. It was quiet as they ate. The bread was so soft and delicious it nearly fell apart in their mouths, and the tea was hot and sweetened perfectly. The cheese was soft and salty. It was better food than Ben had ever eaten.

  "So," Jabari said, smiling over at the birds, who stood watching, flapping their giant wings every once in a while, then looking back at Ben and the others, "tell us your names." Immediately, Ibba spoke.

  "I'm
Ibba," she said. "And this is Benayeem and Isika." She pointed at each of them as she said their names.

  "They are Poison-landers," said the female bird.

  Jabari looked at the bird, frowning, his face thoughtful. Gavi looked up from spreading more cheese on his bread, his eyebrows raised.

  "You don't look like Poison-landers," he said.

  Isika shifted to sit with her legs tucked under her. "I don't know what you mean by Poison-landers," she said.

  "You call them Workers," Jabari said. "You look so different from the others we've met."

  "So we've heard," she replied, her voice sharp. Ben knew how she felt. It was more of the same. The refrain they had heard all the years they had lived in the village, Black children, you don't belong, except this time it was coming from this wandering boy who had dark skin as well. Someone who had happened to cross their path with a giant sack of food and was now sitting back and watching them, waiting, it seemed, for Isika to say more. But there was nothing more to say. They didn't look like Workers.

  "What is this?" Ben asked, gesturing at the crumbs of the food left on the sheet. "How is it that you can eat in the morning?"

  "Why not in the morning?" Jabari asked, frowning.

  "Workers only eat once a day," Ibba announced, and Ben felt anger at the sudden pity that crossed the faces of the boys.

  "Let's not talk about Worker traditions," Isika said, interrupting. "Let's get to the point."

  "There's a point?" Gavi asked, surprise in his voice.

  "Where is our brother?" Ben asked.

  Jabari and Gavi exchanged looks.

  "I'm afraid that you're going to have to fill us in. Who is your brother and why would I know where he is?" Jabari asked.

  "He was sent out," Ben said, "and we followed him in our boat, to get him back, but people came in their own boats and took him. They rowed away so quickly that we couldn't catch them. They didn't see us, and we shouted but they didn't hear us. We don't know who they were or where they went, but we want our brother back."